Loose Ends

Three years ago around this time, the tapestry of my life started to unravel. By that June, it was completely undone. During those dark days, I had very little faith that God could fix that mess. The song that says, "Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers" rang through my head constantly and brought me to tears.

Here I sit, a short three years later, with an intact marriage, a beautiful baby, and a healthy dose of humility as I realize that I (a doubting Thomas) had to see God's hand to believe. But as Noah plays and I sip my coffee this morning, I can't help but feel like I'm getting a glimpse of eternity-- where ALL things work to the glory of God, and all the hard questions have answers.

Resigned

Welp. I resigned from my job* 4 weeks ago. My last day was June 14. No, I don't have another job lined up yet. This is my first week home and it's been... odd.

Why is this so embarrassing to talk about?

I grew up in a very performance-oriented household. This served me very well growing up, because my inclination has historically been to quit when things get hard (AP Calculus, I'm looking at you).

I'm so grateful that my parents encouraged me to persevere through, for example, nursing school, despite my existential crises and numerous threats to change majors. In that instance, perseverance was a very good thing. But there's perseverance, and then there's stupidity (if you keep doing the same thing over and over again, you'll keep getting the same results, right?).

In the past few years, I've taken perseverance to the extreme: piling things on my plate and brute-forcing my way through them because I can. Until... I can't.

Like the country song says, you have to know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em. If you're anything like me, folding seems to be synonymous with failure. Like you didn't try hard enough. But sometimes, that's just not the case.

I'm excited and very anxious about where this path will lead. In the meantime, if you live nearby and want to hang out, let me know. My calendar is wide open!





*Disclaimer: This is NOT meant to be a reflection on my recent employer. It's very much the product of the progression of the last 2 years in my personal life. I am very at peace with my decision and I know it's the right choice at this time. Still, I'm sad that this job wasn't a better fit. I have had the honor of working with a truly esteemed staff of professionals. I would without a doubt go to this clinic as a patient because they provide such great care. I loved being part of a small but hard-working team. But at the end of the day, it wasn't the right place for me.

Hope Does Not Disappoint

Oh hey. What's that? Sunshine? Thank God.


So jeez. It's May. In with a few snowstorms, out with 90 degree weather, that's what I always say.


Oh man, I need a vacation.


Life. It's happening.


I have all these things I have wanted to blog about, but haven't. Why not? Exhibit A: my ridiculous schedule. (I keep thinking I can do everything. And I. Just. Can't.) Exhibit B: this. (Read it).

Depression is a sneaky little devil. I found myself blindsided with hopelessness this spring. Genuinely doubting that God was/is good. Truly believing that life was/is nothing but a struggle. Fearing God. And then slipping into a weird zone of self-preservation that hurt me more in the end. Like the aforementioned blog post says:

At first, though, the invulnerability that accompanied the detachment was exhilarating. At least as exhilarating as something can be without involving real emotions.

The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief.  I had always wanted to not give a f*ck about anything. I viewed feelings as a weakness — annoying obstacles on my quest for total power over myself. And I finally didn't have to feel them anymore.

But my experiences slowly flattened and blended together until it became obvious that there's a huge difference between not giving a f*ck and not being able to give a f*ck. Cognitively, you might know that different things are happening to you, but they don't feel very different. 

Well, yes. I couldn't have said it better myself. So I found myself trying to climb out of this deep dark hole, and I couldn't. I just simply couldn't. I couldn't muster up the desire, the willpower, the energy, the optimism... nada. I'm slowly starting to see daylight, but I've needed an emergency airlift to get there.

See, while I think this author has eloquently yet humorously described depression to a t, I do respectfully disagree with her on one major point. She says, "And that's the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn't always something you can fight back against with hope." I would beg to differ. Indeed, hope is the only thing that can combat depression.

I mean yes, by all means, eat more vegetables. Start exercising: endorphins really do make you happier. Rekindle a beloved hobby or creative outlet. Yet one day, in the throes of it all, you may realize not even those things help. And in that terrible moment of realization, you also realize it doesn't hurt anymore. Nothing makes you happy, but nothing makes you want to cry your eyes out anymore, either. You're apathetic. Detached. Distancing yourself and putting up walls has removed you so far from the pain that you feel nothing. It's safer that way. Also, even more depressing.

{source}

If you get to that point, see a doctor who can evaluate your need for medication. But even then, medications can be a big band-aid if you don't address the root of the problem. (Please know I'm not bashing antidepressants. Been on them. Loved them. Currently loving life without them.)

Ummm my point is... hope. Hope placed in Jesus never disappoints. (I know, I know, you saw that coming. But hear me out.) Everything else will fail you. Has failed me. Everything else disappoints. Jesus it the only one who can keep every promise. The only one who can dry every tear from every eye. The only one who can give us the grace in which we stand and remind us of the hope of the glory of God.

Since Jesus suffered separation from God-- a true agony I never have to know since he bore it for me-- he can rightly encourage us to glory in our sufferings, because suffering produces perseverance; perseverance character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame. (Romans 5:5). I don't have to hate or fear God every time I suffer, because God is actually good.

The Lord your God is with you, 

the Mighty Warrior who saves. 

He will take great delight in you; 

in his love he will no longer rebuke you, 

but will rejoice over you with singing.

(Zephaniah 3:17)

I'm not sure how to say that without sounding like a naive goody-two shoes. I just know in my heart of hearts that it's true. And if you've ever been paralyzed at the bottom looking up, maybe you feel it too. You need something bigger than yourself.

I don't have much to say besides that.  

Hope does not disappoint.

I'm re-learning who God is the good old fashioned-way: by reading my Bible.

And, you know, I guess I'm back to over-sharing on the world wide web :o)